


A Winter's Night

by fantastik_obskurials



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Fluff, M/M, Song fic - kinda, Winter fic, and credence, cat in a starring role, percival graves loves his cat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-23
Updated: 2018-01-23
Packaged: 2019-03-08 09:04:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13454967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fantastik_obskurials/pseuds/fantastik_obskurials
Summary: Graves is spending his winter nights by the fire with his beloved cat, Persephone. Credence is spending his feeling every inch of the cold. Neither can stop thinking about the other.





	A Winter's Night

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by Sarah McLachlan's 'A Song for a Winter's Night'
> 
> Some self-indulgence I couldn't get out of my head.

_The lamp is burning low upon my table top,_

_The snow is softly falling._

_The air is still in the silence of my room,_

_I hear your voice softly calling._

__

  


_If I could only have you near_

_To breathe a sigh or two,_

_I would be happy just to hold the hands I love_

_On this winter's night with you._

  


He’s been staring at this report for a full half hour now. The words seem to blur past, his gaze becoming unfocused and when he looks back to the page he recognises nothing. He should really give it up as a bad job but sheer bloody mindedness has always been a prominent Graves trait. A small warm weight brushes against his leg accompanied by a plaintive _meow_. He smiles.

“Hello menace.” 

The black and white furball blinks up at him with huge dark eyes, solemn and elegant. Persephone had been a gift from his sister, Gwen, who was of the constant opinion that he was turning into a lonely old man, and since she couldn’t visit as often as she both of them would like, she had left him a companion. He had protested at first but it took all of three days for him to be utterly enamoured with the creature, who had simply decided that Graves was her human whether he liked it or not. She oscillated between being an aloof, magnificent queen and an absolute shit, and he adored her for it. Gwen had laughed until she cried when he told her the cat’s name was Persephone - “ _Percy and Percy! Does your ego know no bounds?!”_ He had made a point to call her Seph from then on.

Seph decided that her human was not paying her sufficient attention and began to climb up his trouser legs to perch herself on his lap. She was still blinking those huge eyes. Graves had an uncomfortable flash back to that morning, another set of dark, feline eyes staring at him. It was a tragedy that they didn’t stare out of a healthy, full face like Seph’s. 

_Fuck, I’m even seeing him in my damn cat._

He had a feeling that Credence would love Persephone, with the fascinated way he glanced at the crowds of pigeons on the street or the little secretive smile that came out when people walking their dogs passed by him. Graves had a sudden image of Credence curled up by the fire, Seph purring away on his lap, warm and safe and with that slow creeping smile allowed to stay. He reached out to pet Seph with a hand that trembled ever so slightly, the ache in his chest that he’d carried all day splitting into something sharp and piercing. 

Merlin, but he hoped the boy was at least inside. 

***

The next morning he found himself retracing his steps to the alley they had met in the day before. He waited as long as he could, wishing he hadn’t taken the healers’ advice to stop smoking. It would at least give him something to do with his hands. But there was no sign of the boy. Fuck, he couldn’t afford to stand around all day. He pulled one of the loose bricks out a little from the wall, slipping a letter he’d finally written the night before in case of this very eventuality. At least he knew Credence could read, the boy had been rather adamant about that when he’d asked.

“I may not be educated, but I am not slow, Mr Graves.” 

That brief flash of fire, of defiance had made him smile. The boy was so much more than he appeared.

***

__

_The smoke is rising in the shadows overhead,_

_My glass is almost empty._

_I read again between the lines upon each page_

_The words of love you sent me._

  


__

_If I could know within my heart_

_That you were lonely too,_

_I would be happy just to hold the hands I love_

_On this winter's night with you._

Credence wasn’t expecting Mr Graves to be in the alley so long after their usual time, in spite of the traitorous thump of his heart. He was an important man with better things to do that be at the beck and call of a nobody. Some days Credence wondered if it was all a dream, that he’d wake up and find that Mr Graves did not know him, or worse, did not exist at all. It was Credence who started it, leaving little notes whenever he was able to hide some scraps of paper. He burned with shame at his clumsy letters when Mr Graves wrote back the first time, his script neat and curling on thick, textured paper. But Mr Graves never seemed to mind, if he even noticed, always reassuring him that he read and enjoyed what Credence chose to write to him.

There was a scrap of paper in the wall today. He could feel his heart speed up again - even if it wasn’t the same as having him here, breathing the same air, feeling the warmth of his hand on his shoulder, Credence treasured the words the man wrote. He kept the notes hidden in one of the floorboards of his room, only taking them out when everyone was asleep to read the words over and over, even though he’d already memorised most of them. It wasn’t the same as seeing the ink on the page, knowing that he’d written these words, left something physical and real. Credence doubted the man truly meant the words as they might be understood, the depth of familiarity and affection, but he didn’t care. They were his and he hoarded them as a treasure.

_“My dearest Credence-“_

The feeling in his chest swelled as he read greedily, a sparking pressure that he sometimes felt might devour him. He’d let it.

Credence tucked the paper into his shoe when he was done, much less likely to be found there. But the words of Percival Graves played over and over in his head, and they kept him warm as he stood out on the main street and the snow continued to fall.

***

It was another two days before he saw Credence again. On the nights in between he had read the boy’s words out to Seph as he studied the note - a scrap from one of their horrid flyers - and was at once filled with joy and worry. The weather wasn’t getting any better, if anything it was turning colder, every drop of moisture turning to ice in an instant. Sleep came slowly, if at all; the price of his cowardice.

The surge of warmth when he saw the boy hunched in the alley was incriminatingly familiar. In truth, he’d feared he was too late, the winter sun already below the New York skyline.

“Credence.”

A jolt before the huddled figure relaxed slightly. “Mr Graves,” his voice was all but a whisper.

Graves tried to smile. “It’s good to see you. Thank you for the letter.” Those dark eyes flickered up to meet his own, but the face was paler even than usual, the red lips chapped and sore, dark shadows like bruises under his eyes.

“You’re welcome, sir. I got yours as well, thank you.”

“I’m glad.” In recent days the boy had never been so silent, opening up gradually as a cautious bud. “Credence?”

“Hmm?” The response seemed dragged from his body. Graves couldn’t help but put a hand to his forehead.

“Credence, are you well?” _Hells bells, Graves, of course he’s not well, fucking look at him._ The boy’s head was damp with sweat but so cold. He leaned into Graves’ hand with a hum.

“I’m- I’m fine, Mr Graves, just tired ’s all.” And his words were starting to slur. Fuck.

The choice was never really any choice at all.

“Hold on to me for a moment, let’s get you someplace warm.”

***

Seeing Credence on his living room sofa felt much like dreaming. But in his dreams the boy had never had that sickly grey tinge to his skin, had never had red slices along his hands cracked and reopened from the cold that he’d had to heal before giving him honeyed tea with Pepper-Up potion. Persephone was watching them both from her seat on the windowsill, taking the scene in with dark eyes.

“I have a pot of soup on for when you’re done with the tea.”

“Thank you Mr Graves.”

“Please, call me Percival?” He hadn’t meant it to come out as a question, but the boy smiled just a little in response.

“Thank you, Percival.” Hesitance and boldness both. Hardly a wonder that Graves was gone for the boy.

He healed his wounds as best he could, put soothing cream on his face. Credence’s eyelashes fluttered with every touch of his fingers, which looked so large and uncouth next to the delicacy of his features. He left the boy to rest by the fire while he went to prepare some food. _Before you go too far._

When he returned, he found his heart healed and split anew. Credence was kneeling on the rug by the fire, stroking careful fingers through Persephone’s fur. She lay still and purring under his gentle touch, blinking huge eyes up at where Graves stood frozen by the soft expression on the boy’s face. As close to joy as he had seen. He wanted to turn and walk away, not to intrude on their peace; he wanted to freeze time and never look at anything else. The spoon rattled against the bowl and Credence looked up. But his joy did not fade, rather it grew, a smile spreading like the fire’s warmth.

“I think your cat likes me.”

Graves lowered himself to the floor next to his two favourite people. He passed the soup to Credence and pulled Seph into his lap, who settled once again after a brief disgruntled murmur.

“Her name is Persephone, though I usually call her Seph. And she definitely likes you.”

Credence looked torn between continuing to eat and returning to petting Seph.

“I’m glad. She’s beautiful.”

Seph stretched, preening as if she understood she was being praised.

“You both are.” He realised the moment the words left his mouth and cringed. Credence’s eyes were wide with shock, a blush spreading across his cheeks.

“You don’t mean that.” 

Graves sighed. “Oh, I do. I shouldn’t have said it, but there’s nothing more true. You are beautiful, Credence, outside and in.” He put a hand to the boy’s trembling ones, steadying him again. His eyes were damp but a small smile was threatening. Perhaps all wasn’t lost.

They sat together quietly. Eventually Credence shifted - towards him, not away, and what a miracle - laying his head softly, hesitantly on Graves’ shoulder. Graves thought he might cry, squeezing his eyes shut as he reached an arm around the slim body to hold him.

“The snow is prettier from in here,” Credence whispered.

“When you’re well and rested, I’ll take you out back with a warming charm, and we can watch it fall from the sky.”

“But- but I have to go back, Mr Graves.” Wetness dripped from the boy’s face, and Graves had had enough.

“No you don’t. I’ve been a coward, Credence, and I’m so fucking sorry. But you’re never going back there. Will you stay here with me Credence?”

Those gorgeous dark eyes were looking right through him now in shock, searching out any hint of a lie.

“And do what?” he finally asked.

Graves pressed a kiss to his brow, watched the snow fall outside the window. He was right, it was beautiful.

“I don’t know Credence. For now? Watch the snow. Breathe. Pet Seph, as I highly doubt she’ll permit anything less.”

A breathy laugh as the boy reached to stroke her soft fur again. He nodded and laid his head back down on Graves’ shoulder.

“I would like that. Percival.”

  


_If I could only have you near_

_To breathe a sigh or two,_

_I would be happy just to hold the hands I love_

_On this winter's night with you._

_And to be once again with with you._

**Author's Note:**

> Comments appreciated! Come say hi on tumblr @fantastikobskurials :)


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